October 18, 2009

Fall Break and Ballard Gal Good Times

*The colors on my blog make me queezy. It's SO sad and hard.
There has been a lot of debate in my little cabeza about this blog lately. Ok, the term 'a lot' is a bit of an exaggeration and I'm being a bit dramatic=sue me. But the debate consists of two sides: A - write more, delving into quirky, yet true memoirs, or B-keep doing as I'm doing and attempt to build my resume for Pebbles In My Pocket by using pics and short explanations of distinct happenings. I mean, cause you get both in this here blogging world, and I admit, I feel the pull from both sides. Admitedly I like seeing others pics, but on the other hand, I also enjoy those who write more and delve into their 'inner chi' so to speak. Uh Ho, maybe shell shouldn't blog when going on lack of sleep, eh? With this gut-wrenching truth said, I'll just go with option B and tell you a bit about the chosen photos and t'why they are important in my small, yet optimistic existence.
So, I got off school for a week for fall break. Yep folks, I said a week. Gotta love the U and it's blatant desire to blow off the student's education. Thus I traveled down to the land of my inheritence and played with all the crazies. All my home boys are getting back from their missions, so it's fun to play with everyone again. Have they changed you ask? Weird? Awkward? Socially funked? Nope, not a mince of a change. Poncho came and played one night, and I think you can tell by the look on her face that she is a leetle bit questionable concerning the people and activities of H-town.

Callin, Isaiah, and Tyson Gubler in a lot of hard-to-explain attire

The sisters came up for our annual girls trip. We're missing the newest Ballard gal, Emily Althea. We missed ya em. We usually go to witch's night out at gardner village, but the crowds were cramping our style. So we opted for a Park City fiesta. Did not let us down. We downed Melissa's fantazmagorical (real word, serious biz) nachos and got pedicures. The sweet little viatnamese women found it necessary to keep telling us how bad we needed to get these every month. Yes, ok, we have hoofs. Our feet, thanks to our gene pool, are dry, peeling things. Not very appealing. Their english was hardly understandable until they started telling us how bad our feet looked, then all of a sudden they spoke with a refined english tongue. cute

October 5, 2009

End of an Era

Ah....I don't even really know what sentiments I want to portray. Am I happy? A bit reminiscent? Sad? Wistful? Nay, who is really ever wistful, I just always like to think I am. The word you're looking for when that adjective nearly escapes your lips is tired, you are tired. Stop trying to romantisize it. Thanks. (that's mostly for me, FYI). Mmhem, Anyway, back to the tale at hand. It is the end of a distinct tally in the timeline of my life. Things that I love are finding subtle ways of meandering, ever so gracefully and nonchalantly as could be imagined out of my life. My back pack has finally seen its last zip up (and zip down for that matter, the zippers are broken). T'will never hold my Chris Farley weighted load of books again. We've had some good times together. I realized recently that I have had the same back pack, book bag, papoose, or whatever name makes you feel most school-girl-ish, since I was in 6th grade. I have names on the back from when I let my peers write ever so contemplative quotes like, 'You da bomb!' and 'Ur a QT!' etc, etc. But, on the other hand, where one zipper closes another opens. I LOVE my new one. It has a pocket for positively everything even Survivor Man could possibly need. Costco, you've done it again. Renewed my faith in the ever ridiculed American Consumer Dream!

Next on the 'God Be With You Til We Meet Again' agenda is my beloved Farmer's Market. Yes, I have a slight obsession. It's an entire city park filled with crazy humans (mostly hippies, an obvious r.b. fave) celebrating funky crafts, local music, and best of all F.O.O.D. Fresh fruit, veggies and an overwhelming amount of tasty little tid bits to take your palette for a trip down flavors splash mountain. It's last week is this week and I'm feeling tons of euphoria. The salsa....how I'll miss that all-you-can-eat mango salsa.

(whitney and poncho at F.M. sorry it's fuzzy, taken from the mobile)
Next we have my new adventure of longboarding. My roomate Jo (god bless you J-dog), is a PHENOM longboarder. They go 'sliding' up at the stadium quite often and I want to be good at it SO bad it makes my innards queezy. I've been trying, but I'm just more dangerous than I am gutsy and more clutsy than coordinated. I know what you people who know me are thinking, 'bone-breaking-ballard should just simmer down.' don't fear, I wear a helmet. but with the weather getting more and more freezing by the milisecond, I fear my hopes of becoming the next lord of dogtown will have to wait till next season. But no fear, we have atleast a couple more weeks.
(me and jo)

(Jo and Andy) But, with everything getting freezing balls cold I must say I love SLC in the fall. Love it. Too bad the english language often lets us down for variety on emotions, so love is all I'm left with. SLC's general vibe was meant for the fall time. Too bad it's the best and shortest season, a good month, maybe, before hell, fire and damnation begin in the bitter form of freezing snow puffs. Anyway, it's so beautiful up here right now, and the smells, ah! the smells! Have you noticed that your memory is spiked so much by smells? I have noticed that my memory is particularly active in the fall time. It seems I'm constantly being swept up in moments the minute I step outside. A lot of times I can remember what it's reminding me of, but just as frequently the smell is just familiar....great, and familiar.